When Boredom Strikes
by Brain City
Summary: Crowley, bored and tired of waiting, decides to have fun with Aziraphale. Sexually suggestive pranks ensue. Will Aziraphale take the hint? CXA
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Crowley was bored. There was nothing to do now that Hell had decided to leave him alone after the averted apocalypse. There were no temptations, no evil schemes, no anything… except Aziraphale, his angel. Only, the angel didn't know he was _his_ angel. But there was no other way to put it. Aziraphale was and always would be _his _angel.

This wasn't a new occurrence. He had been thinking about Aziraphale for centuries. First, they were rivals. (Crowley would have never called them enemies. Even their first meeting in the Garden of Eden was quite amicable.) Next, they were acquaintances that would meet up every century or so to reminisce. Sometime after 600 A.D., they began the Arrangement. Initially, the scope of the Arrangement was simply staying out of one another's way. Eventually, they started covering for one another. By the seventeenth century, Crowley had considered Aziraphale his friend, even though each of them would have said otherwise. Around the time World War II had started, the demon had deeply regretted implying they weren't friends. In fact, he had begun to have romantic feelings toward the angel. Twenty-six years later, he could tell that Aziraphale harbored those same feelings but was not ready to admit them. He knew it was harder for an angel to rock the boat than it was for him. Crowley had already capsized the damn thing when he fell. So, he waited patiently for his angel to come around.

After the averted apocalypse, Crowley thought Aziraphale would immediately want to pursue a romantic relationship with him, especially now that neither heaven nor hell would punish them for _fraternizing_, as Aziraphale had called it in the nineteenth century. For some reason, it didn't turn out that way. Aziraphale, though now marginally bolder than before the averted apocalypse, went right back to his bookshop, keeping odd hours, discouraging customers from buying his books, and reading said books in his spare time. This was maddening to Crowley. He could tell that Aziraphale was not offended when he casually flirted with him. A demon could sense lust, after all. He knew when his charms were working, even on an angel. But for some reason, Aziraphale behaved as though he was not infatuated with him.

This led Crowley to his current state, complete and utter boredom with a good helping of extreme randy-ness. This was an infuriating state for someone with as little patience as a demon. It was a demonic miracle that he managed to go a whole month before he gave in to temptation and provoked his angelic counterpart.

One morning, it didn't really matter which day of the week since they all seemed to run together after the averted apocalypse, Crowley decided to keep Aziraphale company at his bookshop and find ways to discourage the patrons from buying books. It was at least something to do, and Aziraphale didn't seem to mind, even when Crowley was resorted to rudeness.

Crowley had already exhausted his ideas to get rid of customers that day. He had coughing fits near shoppers. He put on ear buds and turned music up loudly while singing along, badly. Finally, he started emitting foul odors and standing next to people. And now, once again, he was bored… and ready for lunch. Even so, he knew that Aziraphale would never throw the customers out. The angel was too polite. Crowley, however, was not. Currently, there were three people in the shop: a man with an inexplicably bushy beard dressed like a lumberjack (a hipster), a lady that looked like she was in her mid nineties, and another lady that looked old enough to be the first lady's grandmother.

A sly smile crept onto the serpent's face as he had two thoughts. The first was, _This is going to be fun_. And the second was, _It's a damn good thing he doesn't still have his sword._

The two decrepit ladies huddled together in a corner. The younger, no… less elderly of the two, picked up Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (first edition, signed by Lewis Carroll). Crowley wiggled his finger, changing the text into a book made up of pictures of hard-core bondage. He didn't have to wait long. As soon as the first lady opened the book, the older of the two gasped, and put her hand on her heart. The first lady went pale and dropped the book. Crowley was fast. He cushioned the blow to the floor. He may have wanted to have some fun with Aziraphale, but he didn't want to damage the angel's books. This was all in good fun. He did not wish to incur the wrath of a pissed off celestial. He might no longer have a sword, but he did have access to holy water.

The angel gasped that one of his cherished books had been mistreated. A little faster than should be possible, he rushed to pick up his book, which Crowley had quickly changed back to the original.

"My dear lady!" Aziraphale exclaimed. "Please be careful!"

Though Aziraphale geared himself up for a long lecture, the two ladies didn't wait around to be scolded by Aziraphale. It was an amusing race, old and older, pushing and shoving one another, desperate to get out of A. Z. Fell and Co. As they went, they both mumbled something about depravity and perverts.

Aziraphale was thoroughly perplexed as he gingerly inspected the book's cover, sighing in relief that no damage had been done. He then looked through the book. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. He had no idea why the two ladies had reacted the way they had. Dumbfounded, he placed the book back where it belonged.

Six minutes later, the lumberjack picked up Aziraphale's Proust, the first volume of Remembrance of Things Past. Crowley waved his hand toward the book. He changed the inside to something similar to the Kama Sutra, but the pictures were all clearly of a certain red-headed demon, who was now _extraordinarily_ well endowed.

"Hmm…" the man was very confused and embarrassed. His voice shook as he spoke. "Mr. Fell."

"May I help you?" Aziraphale spoke politely with a hint of dread on his face. It was the look he got when he thought he was about to lose one of his precious books to an unwanted sale.

"Ummm…" the man didn't know how to voice his query in words, "Is this… right?" He managed to ask as he showed Aziraphale the book.

The angel's eyes went wide as saucers and his face turned bright pink when he saw the inside of the book. He would never have had erotica in his store. (And even if he had, said erotica would never have consisted entirely of pictures of Crowley.) Erotica was the one kind of book he didn't keep. He didn't feel that sort of book was appropriate for a respectable establishment.

Of course, he immediately knew what had happened. Crowley hadn't even bothered to be subtle about it. Now that Aziraphale thought about it, Crowley had probably done something similar to the ladies earlier. That meant it was his fault his book was mishandled. Though no damage had been done to his antique tome, he fought the urge to keep from glaring at the guilty party. After his brain turned back on, Aziraphale thought quickly, scrambling to find an appropriate response to his customer's concern.

"Oh, yes." He spoke in a pitch about an octave higher than his usual tone, and his speech was rushed. This happened when he tried to lie. "It's very rare. One of a kind, in fact. Didn't realize it was on the shelf. Couldn't bear to part with it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm closing for lunch."

The hipster didn't know what to make of this whole interaction. "Okaaaaaaay…" he drawled as he hurriedly exited the store.

"That was smooth." Crowley laughed at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale practically growled at Crowley and briefly considered smiting his friend to teach him a lesson. He was angry, but the ire was receding. He couldn't stay angry at Crowley for this.

"It got them out of here. Didn't it?" Crowley shrugged and snapped his fingers to change the book back to the original. "How'd you like the pictures?"

"A bit full of yourself, aren't you, dear?" The angel asked sarcastically. "Unless your manhood _is_ actually longer than your arm."

"Only one way to find out." The tempter flirted shamelessly.

"You forget that I inhabited that body nearly a month ago." Aziraphale told him in a rather haughty but slightly embarrassed way. "I do believe I would've remembered walking around with an elephant's trunk stuck between my legs."

"I can't believe you said that!" Crowley guffawed.

Aziraphale chuckled along with him.

"I like this new side of you, angel." Crowley got a wicked idea. "Do you want to see what I showed Methuselah's sisters?"

"I think I've seen quite enough for one day." Aziraphale blushed.

"I could show you _personally_, if you like." Crowley told him as he sauntered over to the angel, leaving barely any room between them.

"Really, dear, a little space, if you please." Aziraphale shakily pleaded with his counterpart.

"Okay." Crowley relented… for now. "Let's at least go to lunch. There's a new Indian restaurant I've been wanting to try."

"I do hope the food isn't too spicy." Aziraphale worried.

Crowley pursed his lips at his friend in a rather patronizing way. He thought Aziraphale was being a bit of a baby about this. It wasn't as if spicy foods would affect him the same way they did humans. Even if the food had a little kick to it, Aziraphale could just will the extra spice away.

"Come on, princess." Crowley smirked as he walked past the pouting angel.

"Fine." Aziraphale reluctantly gave in, still sounding more than slightly petulant. "Your treat."

Crowley thought it was adorable and laughed at him, "We both conjure the money out of thin air. It hardly matters who pays."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Sorry I didn't leave a disclaimer on the first chapter so here it is.

1\. I don't own Aziraphale or Crowley or anything else Good Omens plot related

2\. Rated T for slash theme and some swearing

3\. I'm not British. I'm sorry if I get Britishisms wrong.

Chapter 2

After their lunch together, Aziraphale never mentioned the prank Crowley had pulled. Crowley had been hoping to entice Aziraphale into _something_, but after the initial irritation over potentially damaged books, the angel was back to his cheerful self, tickety-boo, as Aziraphale might say.

This was unacceptable to Crowley. He had to come up with another plan to get a reaction out of Aziraphale. The old serpent dug through his usual bag of tricks and opted to keep with the sexual theme. After all, that is what he had been going for, to push his companion a little closer to a romantic entanglement.

Two days after his first prank, a new plan hatched in his mind. This plan was a bit different than the first. There would be no overt, graphic images, only a bit of annoyance. The wily snake waited, as patiently as he could, until A. Z. Fell and Co. was closed, and Aziraphale was in the back reading. Crowley snapped and the store name changed to "XXX Forbidden Fruit XXX – Open 24 hours – ADULTS ONLY," in neon letters. He was rather proud of the name, congratulating himself on a very clever play-on-words.

He then sat in an inconspicuous car across the street unlocked the shop door. Since Crowley's potential tempt-ees were limited to those who walked by Aziraphale's shop, he had to plant seeds of lust or curiosity in the minds of the pedestrians in the immediate vicinity. The good news was, lust was a very easy temptation to accomplish. The bad news was, Aziraphale would probably disapprove.

Many people passed by the store and looked, clearly tempted by Crowley's wiles, but the lust and curiosity he had given them were not enough to overcome their discomfort over entering an establishment such as this. It took a few minutes for the first person to pause at the door and debate with himself over whether or not to enter. Unfortunately for Crowley, the instant the man reached for the doorknob, he got a call from his wife. This call caused him to rethink his decision and then scurry off hoping no one had seen him.

"Bugger!" Crowley swore under his breath. "Almost had that one."

Failure when he was so close really spurred Crowley on. Sometimes the serpent had a fierce competitive streak. It usually came out when the stakes involved Aziraphale. In addition, he had lost more than he cared to admit to a few measly humans, and it was very much rubbing him the wrong way. He didn't want to let the humans win this battle of wills. Crowley ramped up his temptation on the passing crowd, not quite enough that Aziraphale would notice, but hard enough to make some of the more susceptible men walk a little funny.

Ten minutes later, he managed to tempt a middle-aged man into entering Aziraphale's store. Since Crowley was a demon, he had better than human hearing. It was not good enough to hear what the man said to the unsuspecting angel when he entered, but he heard Aziraphale's affronted response. He was glad that the angel was surprised enough to raise his voice.

"This shop is closed, and we are most definitely NOT that kind of a place!" Aziraphale shouted, his voice getting closer to the door as he spoke.

Crowley snapped again and changed the signage back to the original, moments before Aziraphale came outside, shoving the man out the door, none too gently. He seemingly didn't listen to the man as he sputtered explanations. He simply slammed the door and locked it. The man looked up for the sign that he could have sworn he had seen. For some reason he couldn't fathom, the flashy neon sign wasn't there. It was merely an unobtrusive sign for a bookshop. The man walked away very confused.

Crowley shook with silent laughter as he watched the scene play out before him. The look on the angel's face had been priceless. It was a mixture of confusion and outrage. The demon could watch this all night but likely wouldn't get the chance to see it again. He knew that when a second person entered the store looking for something elicit, Aziraphale would not think it was a coincidence, and he would need to hide. He would have to settle for listening while Aziraphale told people off.

As soon as Aziraphale was back inside the store, Crowley changed the sign back to the neon sign. It took all of two minutes and forty-seven seconds for another person to come to the door, wanting a taste of the "Forbidden Fruit." The "person" who came to the door was male, but calling him a "man" would have been quite a stretch. This individual was, at most, seventeen, probably with a fake I.D. Crowley felt a little guilty at tricking this teenager but still unlocked the door for him and ducked out of the way.

Crowley was surprised and disappointed that he didn't hear Aziraphale shouting this time. He didn't even hear the youngster leaving. This was because the angel had actually caught on to his friend after the first man entered and waited just inside the shop, observing the street. The extremely observant angel looked up and down the street until he saw Crowley sitting in a nondescript Ford Fiesta (though Aziraphale would have not been able to name the make of car) across the street. When the second person came to his store, he immediately transported this young man back to his home with no memory of what happened.

Aziraphale took a quick breath to calm himself. He wanted to appear casual when he encountered his friend. He also didn't want to give Crowley too much time to think about it. He was hoping to surprise him. When he saw the demon duck down out of view, the angel counted to five and materialized in the passenger's seat of the Ford.

"Having a good night, dear?" Aziraphale asked a little too innocently.

"Shit!" Crowley nearly jumped out of his skin, banging his head on the roof of the car in alarm.

"Language, dear boy." Aziraphale scolded him with a marginally stern tone.

"That's quite an accomplishment, jump scaring a demon." Crowley ignored Aziraphale's reprimand and laughed at the situation.

The angel looked up at the sign and chuckled at the name before changing it back to his original signage. Forbidden fruit was such an appropriate choice for a private joke between the two of them even though it meant something different to those the serpent tempted. This led Aziraphale to remember the young man who had mistakenly wandered into his shop after having succumbed to temptation.

"If you're trying to get my attention, there are more palatable ways than corrupting children." The former guardian of the eastern gate chided the demon in earnest.

"I didn't make him open the door." Crowley sidestepped the issue. After seeing that the angel wasn't buying it, he conceded with an uncharacteristic guilty quality to his voice. "I probably should have waited for an older one."

"And wouldn't knocking on my door have been easier than this whole setup?" Aziraphale continued.

"Easier wasn't the point, angel." Crowley mused. "I was just trying to have a little fun."

"You're probably right. It was fun." Aziraphale teased back. "If you had knocked on my door, I would have never gotten to hear you scream like a little girl."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for all the favorites and follows!

I still don't own Aziraphale or Crowley.

**Chapter 3**

Initially, Crowley's string of juvenile pranks had rather reminded Aziraphale of a house cat knocking trinkets off shelves to garner attention. But soon, the angel realized what was going on. Crowley specifically wanted to gain Aziraphale's attention in a romantic (romantic for Crowley) way.

Aziraphale had suspected Crowley had been attracted to him since the Reign of Terror. Why else would he have bothered to save him from discorporation? And during the Blitz, those Nazis had tricked him into giving away prophecy books. Crowley not only saved his life, but also managed to save his books as well. To be honest, Crowley had been flirting with him for more than a century, but he had never been this overt about his lust.

Aziraphale didn't know what to say or do with Crowley. Without question, he was deeply in love with Crowley, and if he were honest with himself, he would admit that he physically yearned for him as well. But it wasn't as simple as falling into bed with the demon. Aziraphale needed more.

The "more" that Aziraphale needed did not include gratuitous amounts of sexual innuendo. The constant river of suggestiveness Crowley had been displaying lately was driving the angel to the brink of insanity. He didn't know how much more he could take, and he didn't know how to broach the subject.

It was a delicate situation. He wanted love but didn't want his friend to feel pressured into confessing his love for him. He wanted it to come from Crowley's heart. But if he asked him to stop flirting, he would feel rejected. And… Aziraphale already had an enormous amount of guilt over keeping Crowley at bay for over a hundred years. It broke his heart that he had resorted to cruelty and lies to keep up appearances with his heavenly supervisors. Yet time and again, Crowley would come back to him. Most of the time Crowley even took the blame for what Aziraphale had said or done.

Even though he was sure that Crowley was in love with him, he couldn't bring himself to give in to lust, not without hearing the words. And even though he knew his former bosses weren't watching, he still couldn't go against his heart. It wasn't about them. It was about love. It was deeply personal to Aziraphale, not just a rule the archangels had implemented to keep lowly principalities in line. There was simply no way for him to overcome the pain it would create for him to give himself to someone who hadn't declared his love for him.

The angel spent many waking hours telling himself that Heaven wasn't watching, that the universe owed him for helping avert the apocalypse, or even that Crowley did indeed love him. Countless hours he tried to conquer his inhibitions and allow himself to for once experience physical pleasure without worrying about consequences. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything, anything except love. When it came down to it, he needed love. And he needed Crowley to know it was love.

Aziraphale was still dithering when Crowley hatched his next plan. The angel knew there was another volley of tomfoolery on the way and had planned to weather this scheme in the same manner as before, until he could figure out a way to handle the situation.

Just after lunchtime, Crowley wandered into the bookshop and saw a married couple, man and woman. Actually, 'wandered' was the polite way of saying, 'drunkenly staggered.' But… that wasn't accurate either because Crowley clearly wasn't drunk. He was only pretending to be drunk. The two people in the store, other than Aziraphale, believed he was drunk, but Aziraphale knew better. He had been drunk with Crowley before and knew that when the demon drank, he was clumsier and unintelligible.

This day the demon did not exactly speak; he sang. And though he did slur his speech, he did not hiss, as he was inclined, and he didn't once tell a story that was impossible to follow. He simply belted out "Don't Stop Me Now" and made suggestive movements toward the two customers in the store.

"Tonight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time." He sang slowly as he approached the male customer. "I feel ali-i-i-ive!" The serpent thrust his hips toward the man with each syllable.

Aziraphale watched in shock, not at Crowley (he had rather expected such things from him at this point), but at the man who blushed and stared at Crowley's mouth, licking his lips. The bookseller had seen these two people in the shop before, and they had seemed happily married, and the man didn't seem remotely interested in other men. But… Crowley was an insanely attractive man. Some might even say he was hot. Clearly the man Crowley flirted with thought so.

"And the world…" The nimble snake sauntered sinuously around behind the man and toward his wife. "I'll turn it inside out. Yeah."

The woman, who had clearly noticed her husband's response to Crowley, didn't seem all that put out once the gorgeous demon turned his attention towards her. She flushed as she touched her throat and breathed through her open mouth.

"And floating around in ec-sta-cy," Crowley shamelessly danced very suggestively millimeters from the woman. "So, don't stop me…"

The woman didn't let him finish. She launched herself at him, latching her lips onto his like her life depended on it. Her hands encased Crowley's lithe form and went straight for his buttocks, squeezing it and grinding up against him.

Crowley had not anticipated this reaction from the lady. He had thought she would have the decency to at least pretend she had been offended. Most people, though they might be full of lechery, would not actually publically give in to their desires, especially in front of their significant other.

This miscalculation caused the demon to react more slowly than usual. Aziraphale giggled to himself as his counterpart flailed wildly to get away from unwanted affection, but still, he took mercy on his friend and snapped his finger, pausing the minds of both the man and woman. The husband and wife both straightened up and looked off blankly into space.

"That one didn't go your way." Aziraphale chuckled at him.

"Definitely not." The old serpent sighed in relief, glad to be away from the woman's exploring hands.

"But, then again, I did stop you after you specifically asked me not to…" The angel teased him, referring to the song the Crowley had been singing. He slowly raised his hand and held his fingers ready to snap and turn the couple's brains back on.

"You wouldn't." Crowley narrowed his eyes at the angel, daring him to play along.

Something strange happened in the angel's brain. He had a weird thought. What if Crowley wanted a relationship with someone, and Aziraphale was the closest one to him? Maybe if he gave the demon permission to move on, he would, and there would be no need for rejection, and though seeing Crowley with someone else would break his heart, he would rather suffer for his friend's happiness than cause Crowley pain. That thought gave the angel inspiration to meet the challenge Crowley had given him.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers.

Initially, the Crowley had been shocked that Aziraphale actually participated in his prank, but he got over it quickly to prepare himself for another round of tonsil hockey. Crowley expected the woman to resume her passionate pursuit, but she didn't.

Angels were perfectly capable of inflicting lust on someone just like demons could, but they didn't do it often. Aziraphale had decided to go the other way and target the man. Aziraphale projected both lust and competitiveness into the man, hoping that if lust wasn't enough, a masculine desire to win would push him over the edge. Since Aziraphale hadn't had occasion to use this ability often, he was very much out of practice. He might have overdone it just a bit.

The effect was instantaneous. The man grabbed Crowley by the face to give him a sloppy, wet kiss. This time the serpent was ready and snapped both man and woman back into an oblivious state.

Crowley wiped off his mouth, "Oh, my giddy aunt!" Crowley shuddered and his face twisted into a rather disgusted grimace. " 's like snogging a hairy frog!"

"Not your type, dear?" The angel asked, fighting hard and failing not to laugh at Crowley. He was also hoping to find out what he could do next to hold the serpent at bay.

"Blegh!" The demon stuck out his tongue as if to get rid of an unpleasant taste. "No, not interested in drool and mustaches." He rolled his eyes at the angel as he conjured up a bottle of whiskey. Drinking directly from the bottle he swished it around in his mouth and gargled. "How does his wife live with that?"

"Speaking of, will you please do something about them, dear?" Aziraphale motioned towards the two semi-conscious humans in his shop. "It's only fair that you clean up your own mess."

The demon got an impish grin on his face and raised his hand to snap. The idea wasn't yet fully formed in his mind when Aziraphale cleared his throat to interrupt the wicked thought before he could hatch it.

"I was considering taking you to your favorite Indian place again." Aziraphale scolded him. "Don't make me rethink that decision."

Crowley wisely changed his mind and wiped their memories of the whole thing. Blinking a few times, the both staggered out of the bookshop in a daze.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is the final chapter of my short fic. Thank you all for reading it. I hope you enjoyed it.

Chapter 4

Aziraphale sat in his backroom, half reading, half pondering what to do about his best friend. He didn't come up with anything and decided that what he really needed at this moment was a reprieve from all of the sexual innuendo that Crowley, the original tempter, had been lavishing on him. He thought long and hard about how to get said break, and ultimately decided on appraising a new acquisition of his. He didn't strictly need to appraise this book, first because he didn't plan on selling it, and second because he had done this often and could almost literally do it in his sleep. He opened the book, and if Crowley seemed playful, he would continue to evaluate it. Slowly.

A. Z. Fell and Co. was closed, but that never stopped Crowley from coming in. He simply snapped and opened the door and waltzed right in. Aziraphale was in the back of the shop, inspecting a book as though painstakingly evaluating it.

"An-gel!" Crowley called out in a singsong voice. "You wanna get dinner tonight?"

"Sorry, dear boy." The angel briefly looked up from his book and gave Crowley a tight smile. He heard the mischievousness in Crowley's voice and decided to move ahead with his small deception. "Just got this in, and I planned on appraising it tonight."

"Couldn't you do that tomorrow?" Crowley whined, feeling his opportunity slip away from him. "Or next week?"

"I've been looking forward to this." This was only partially a lie. He did enjoy inspecting books he had never seen, but any extended evaluation he conducted wouldn't change his opinion of the overall value of the book by that much. His initial evaluation was usually spot on. "And besides, I don't feel up to going out anyway." The angel sighed wearily.

Crowley rolled his eyes under his glasses and plopped down on the couch across from Aziraphale, manifesting a bottle of single malt scotch and a tumbler. He didn't notice the slight cringe Aziraphale made when he realized the demon was not going to allow him solitude.

Crowley tried to be quiet, content to be in the angel's presence, but as he drank more, it became harder for him to control himself. He began making small noises every once in awhile. Aziraphale didn't look up. He had become enraptured with the book he didn't actually need to inspect.

In fact, the angel was so engrossed in his book that he began to get uncomfortable sitting in the hard chair. Crowley saw this and moved behind him to rub his shoulders, kneading his muscles.

"What…?" Aziraphale started to protest.

"Sssssh." Crowley scolded him, lacing his words with hissing. "You've been uptight for ssssix thousand years, angel. It's time you let go of some of that tension."

"You don't…" Aziraphale tried to politely decline.

Crowley used a demonic intervention to warm up his hands and dug into a very large knot at the base of his skull.

"Oh my!" Aziraphale exhaled. "That's…" he ceased speaking and gave in to the impromptu massage.

Aziraphale absolutely adored the way this massage made him feel, and he barely restrained himself from moaning, relishing the touch of Crowley's supernaturally heated hands. He knew he was playing a dangerous game by allowing Crowley to touch him this way, but he couldn't think of a way to tactfully stop him. On top of that, he didn't want to stop him. Besides, this back rub wasn't sexual. It simply felt nice.

"Thank you, dear." The angel breathed, distracted from his book, and happily so.

"Any time," Crowley beamed, feeling that he had gained a small measure of victory.

Too soon for Aziraphale, Crowley ended the massage to pour himself another drink, and another. After finishing them, the demon became restless again. He waved his fingers, not wanting to snap and alert the angel. Suddenly the book disappeared and was replaced with a picture of Crowley, smirking at his angel. The picture moved as if it were from Harry Potter.

"Really, Crowley." Aziraphale gave him a reproving look and changed the picture back into his book.

"This is taking forever." Crowley complained under his breath.

Angelic hearing was every bit as good as demonic hearing. Aziraphale responded to the snide remark very patiently, hoping Crowley would give up and leave. "It's likely to take me several more hours." The angel spoke pleasantly, though inwardly, he was in agony, very much wanting to cast his book aside and kiss the drunken flash bastard.

"I know." Crowley sighed but didn't move to vacate the couch where he had taken residence.

It didn't take long for the impatient demon to once again become fidgety. He sobered up to avoid doing something that would truly offend his friend. When his mind had cleared, he decided that since the massage had gone over so well, he would do something else for him. He made him cocoa and put a very elaborate foam latte art on top. (Latte foam art and the incessant online pictures thereof, had in fact been Crowley's idea, one that he was very proud of.) The latte art Crowley had made specifically for his angel was very complicated, much more than any human could have created. It was the spitting image of Crowley and Aziraphale kissing. It was very cute and romantic, not in any way elicit, as the angel didn't seem to be in a receptive mood.

Aziraphale immediately saw the drink in front of him with the endearing foam art and burst into tears. He was overwhelmed by Crowley. Of course, he remembered the pranks and what they stood for, but mostly, he remembered everything else, Crowley rescuing him from the Bastille and the Nazis, every time he smiled, and his beautiful eyes. Oh, those beautiful eyes!

The angel had never more desperately lusted after Crowley than at this moment. He couldn't take the pressure any longer. He dropped his head into his hands and sobbed, uncontrollably.

"What's wrong, angel?" Crowley was taken aback by the outburst. He spun Aziraphale's chair around, dropped to his knees in front of his troubled friend, putting his hands on the knees of Aziraphale's khaki pants.

"I can't do this anymore." The troubled angel whimpered.

Crowley didn't have to be psychic to figure out what Aziraphale was talking about. It was obvious he meant the pranks Crowley had been pulling. He hadn't meant to hurt his angel this way. He had only been trying to not so subtly suggest sex to the object of his affection.

"I'm ssss…" Crowley started to apologize but Aziraphale cut him off.

"It's not like I don't want to, dear." He sniffled, daring to look his friend in the eye as he spoke. He struggled to speak as he finally admitted, "You have no idea how I have longed to… share carnal pleasure with you."

Crowley, not needing to hear anything further, moved in to kiss his angel, but Aziraphale pushed the chair away from Crowley.

"I can't!" The broken angel sobbed, standing and turning his back, unable to look at the very confused demon.

Crowley didn't understand the dichotomy of this situation. Aziraphale had admitted that he desired a physical relationship, but he acted like he didn't. Was it because he was still afraid of what heaven would think of them? It seemed like Aziraphale was past caring what the other white winged wankers thought of him. He hadn't even mentioned them in weeks. It had to be something else. Was he afraid that he would fall? Crowley didn't think so. The angel would have mentioned it if that was his hang up. Besides, Crowley didn't think Aziraphale would fall if they were in love.

Suddenly, the answer came to him, and he saw why Aziraphale had taken so long to admit his feelings. He needed absolute proof that it was more than just sex, that it was love. But… could he just say the words? He could overcome his demonic nature and admit it. He knew that for sure. But it wasn't that simple. Millions of people and thousands of demons have said the words and not meant it. Many have professed love with the hopes of sexual conquest. Crowley needed Aziraphale to know without a doubt that it wasn't _just_ about sex to him.

Aziraphale shakily continued, still unable to face Crowley. "I love you, and I _think_ I know how you feel, and I know it is not fair to ask you to say the words, but I _need_ them." He held his breath, trying desperately to regain his composure.

Crowley felt the need to explain his feelings, not just say them. He wanted to tell him that he would swim in an ocean full of holy water or take any punishment hell has for him if he could have the chance to be with Aziraphale forever, but he thought it sounded corny. Likewise, he wanted to remind him of all of the crazy, stupid things he had done for him in six thousand years, for no other reason than love, but he didn't want to sound as if he regretted anything he had done for his angel. He settled for a little vulnerability of his own.

"I do want you, angel. I suppose I haven't been subtle about letting you know that." Crowley told him, hoping Aziraphale could see he was being honest with him, exposing his soul, so to speak. "And it's not unfair of you to ask. It was stupid of me to not understand before. Of course you need love, you're an angel."

"Not stupid." The weeping angel disagreed, turning back around to face him, traces of hope breaking through his tear-stained face. "It must be unbelievably difficult for you…"

"Harder than an angel admitting to lust?" Crowley interrupted him.

"Possibly not." Aziraphale conceded, blushing.

"You are so brave." The demon told him cupping his long, slender hand to the angel's cherubic face. "Incredibly brave."

Aziraphale took off the demon's sunglasses to peer into his eyes. He smiled encouragingly at his friend. Crowley took a deep breath and smiled back, leaning very close to his angel's face.

When Crowley spoke, Aziraphale could almost feel the demon's lips up against his. "I love you, Aziraphale, my angel."


End file.
